Monday, June 30, 2008

my dad

While I may have missed Fathers Day by a few weeks, I’d like to take a moment to discuss my dad – he’s one of the greatest dads I know, and he deserves a little discussing. Mainly, I’d like to discuss what I do when I fly on planes, and I’d like to relate it directly to my father, who taught me everything I know. It starts when I’m allowed to select my seat. Dad, do you know where I always sit? Of course you do, same place you would if you could. Window seat above the wing. Why? So I can look out and see the wing work as we take off and land. The intricacies of the flaps and rudders still amaze me, and seeing the air rush over the aerodynamically optimized structure as we zoom in for landing, well – let’s just say I know all a girl should know about the Bernoulli Principle of lift. But, my fascination goes further than that. While waiting at the gate I check out for the size of the plane as it approaches the jetway, I watch as the various carts fill it with gas, food, load the luggage. Of course, as I board the plane I always check out whatever I can see of the cockpit. As we live in a post 9/11 world it becomes impossible to ask to SEE the cockpit, but sometimes you can get a glimpse of all those controls. Millions of controls. Heck, I even check out all the flight attendants storage spaces – where the carts go, the coffee pots, their purses. Everything has a space, everything has a function (or three), it’s amazing. As we pull away from the gate I’m aware of the little truck that’s pushing the plane (because these big things can not maneuver in reverse themselves), I’m watching the grounds crew as they signal which way the plane should go. I wait to feel the landing gear raise and lower. As we come in for landing, I understand all the various banks and rolls and speed changes that happen. It’s these details that my dad and I used to pay attention to and talk about when we flew. And, I still do. And I know, whenever he flies, these are the things my dad is looking at and thinking about too! Given that I've taken a total of 10 flights in the last 2 weeks, I've really noticed this fascination of mine.

While in Cairns last week I was lucky enough to get on to a boat tour where we boarded a sailing vessel and headed out to the reef. If planes make me think of my dad, boats certainly make me remember every summer I ever had. My family had a 30 foot Pearson sailboat, Pax, for about as long as I can remember – supposedly our first sailboat was a 24(am I close?) sailboat, Windward, but I was quite young when they got rid of that one. I think I remember it’s blue and red plaid cushions, but perhaps only from a picture. It’s Pax that I can still see if I close my eyes tight enough. She was teal, and had teal and grey cushions inside. The red table folded up and out of sight when we were underway, and the stairs were removable and revealed the shiny red engine underneath. While on the boat in Cairns, Falla, I couldn’t help but remember all the wonderful trips we took while I was growing up. And of course – all of the nautical information that was still in my head. Dad, do they drive on the left side of the channel in thiat part of the world too? I’d imagine so. When we were pulling back up to the dock at the end of the day, Skipper Doug was having a bit of trouble. It was very windy, and it kept blowing us out of the slip. He backed on out and tried a second time. One other man on board, who clearly knew a thing or two about boats, was along the port side ready to help. I noticed him there, so I said to him quietly “Hey, Fred, if you jump off with the spring line, just throw me the stern line quick and I’ll get it back there.” Literally, these words just came out of my mouth without much thought. Fred looked up at me, quite shocked I must say, and was unsure of what to do. Much to my dismay, and that of young looking females everywhere, Fred jumped off with the spring line and quickly threw the stern line up to an already busy Skipper Doug. I guess I can’t blame him, who am I to think that they’d have faith in me to know what to do with anything when it came to a boat. But, I know – and my dad does too – that I could have caught that stern line, and even could have tied it to a cleat.

Thanks Dad, all those times you sat me down to teach me about ridiculously useless things (like units conversion), well…maybe you knew what you were talking about.

Tuesday, June 24, 2008

cultural similarities

I hadn't considered that me saying "y'all" does for the Aussies what their saying "Good'ay Mate!" does for me.

Paradise

On Friday morning I flew to Cairns, pronounced Cannes, which is a beautiful city with access to the Great Barrier Reef, among other things. In stark contrast to Melbourne, this place feels like paradise. It’s quite hot, and the scenery is gorgeous. After a tiring morning of flying we were able to lounge by the pool for a bit, and then ventured over to the esplanade for some shopping. Didgeridoos, boomerangs, rhythm sticks, and other gorgeous wood creations abound – there were a few didgeridoos that really seemed to want to come home with me, but I left them behind.

On Saturday we joined up with some friends from UCLA and boarded a two-masted ship, the Falla, for a day of sailing and snorkeling. Captain Doug and (what we hope to be his girlfriend, otherwise he was overly snippy with her) Jacqueline took us out to Fitzroy Island. It was a very wet and mostly bumpy ride out to the island. I contemplated an introductory dive, and listened to the introductory dive lecture, but in all honesty the need to “equalize” the pressure on the way down by popping my ears freaked me out. As well as the claustrophobic feeling I was sure I’d feel once hooked up to a tank. But, luckily for me, my flight the following day was the actual reason I could not dive – and not because I was too chicken to try it. Instead, I spent about a total of an hour and a half snorkeling in and around a portion of the Great Barrier Reef that was absolutely beautiful. (I did have a crappy underwater camera, and so once those pictures are developed I’ll post some good ones.) It was a little windy that day, and so the water wasn’t as clear or brilliant as I’d imagined. But, once I got in the water and calmed down a bit – the wildlife was everywhere. I spent some time swimming with a large school of small blue fish, poking into large hunks of coral, and chasing after the poor sea turtle that only made himself known to us briefly. For lunch Doug and Jacqueline had prepared a picnic on the beach. By beach, however, I mean pile of small dead coral “rocks”. As we learned from talking to Doug, the coral we can see is just the top living layer that grows on the underlying dead layers. In fact, the entire Fitzroy Island is “growing” out of piles of dead coral, just so happened to grow up in to a few trees and all. The party started when we headed back, and they broke out the complimentary wine and cheese and fruit. We’ll just say, I slept well that night. Good thing, I was up the next morning at 4am in order to go back to the airport.

(In case you are keeping track, that Sunday morning flight is individual flight number five, in seven days!)

Saturday, June 21, 2008

I am in Melbourne

Sadly, NH stole my favorite picture of Melbourne for his post, so we’ll have to struggle along with this one.
After my long-ass flight, and seemingly days of travel, I arrived in the land down under. First stop, Melbourne. Science is what brings me here, but I'll save you from those details. It's cold in Melbourne, and I am not prepared. Having lived all but the last 9 months in New England it amazes me how inflexible I am with the weather now. I am unable to determine appropriate outfits for a climate based solely on the temperature I can find online. Needless to say, I did not pack well. I was cold much of the time, and wore the same grey sweater every night.

As a city, I did not fall in love with Melbourne. It was a generic looking city – I’d easily believe that I was somewhere in the middle of Ohio, maybe Michigan – and the weather was crap. Also, we had the damnedest time finding food. Everything closed around 9pm, and we rarely could make up our minds on what our plan was in time to get anywhere before they kicked us out. It made for a lot of walking. We did find this sweet arcade, with the drum game, and air hockey. We had a tournament, the results of which are inconclusive and require a rematch, but I could have been the winner.

Wednesday, mid morning, was my moment – it went well, but it was during a very crucial beantown moment. I did manage to sneak away during lunch, even convinced a few friends to run across the street to the casino with me, to watch the end on the big screen. We got there with about 6 minutes left in the 4th quarter. And, all I can say is – WOW! Amazing. What a year for Boston, what a season for the Celtics. It was nice to be so far away and still be with a crowd, pumped for the game. It was nothing like watching it at Little Woodrow’s with a mish-mash of displaced Boston and LA natives, but for being in Australia, I guess it will do!

On Thursday morning a few of us decided to venture out for breakfast; we found this place and headed off. It was the cutest little place, with the best breakfast I’ve had in a long time. That afternoon, while it poured buckets outside, we spend a few hours at the Melbourne Museum of Moving Images, mainly at the Game On exhibit, playing loads of video games. (btw, Austinites – I am ready for Rock Band, BRING IT!)

Thursday night we found a band playing at the Ding Dong Lounge in Chinatown. And when that place was closing the very nice bar tender wearing a Celtics jersey drew a map for me, to the Pony Bar, which didn’t close until 7am. This sounded like the place for us. We headed there, and found a group of native Aussies to hang with. We hung, and drank, with them for far too long, until far too late, and made it back with far too little time before our VERY early morning flight to Cairns. The end of that story is, I did make it on the plane – with little to no assistance from anyone – and that was a major feat.

Tuesday, June 17, 2008

How to deal with a thirteen and a half hour plane ride and a sixteen hour time difference

It can really be summarized by two things: Fight Club. Ambien. But, allow me to elaborate.

I've been wanting to rewatch the movie Fight Club for a while now. I know I saw it in college, maybe my junior year, when we had that ridiculous projector and a wall sized canvas as our TV. It was great, in that it was BIGGER than anything you could imagine, but the picture quality was pretty awful, and if there was any amount of light coming in that common room, forget it - you couldn't see shit. And that's how I watched some supposedly great movies like Fight Club, Snatch, and The Big Lebowski. And I missed a lot.

I was sitting at the gate in LA, two hours into my 4 hour lay-over and no hours into my 13.5 hour flight, already bored out of my mind. A gut next to me reached into his bag and pulled out a brand new copy of Fight Club. I was quickly thinking, I could ask him if maybe we could share...he could watch, then I could watch, we'd have enough time. As I went over this in my mind, however, he had put the movie away, put on headphones, and fallen asleep. Damn!

Once we boarded the plane and I got settled I looked to my right and thought, 'this kid in the aisle looks familiar'. He was visibly nervous about the length of the flight and kept pointing out how long it would be. I thought this would be a disaster. He got up at one point to scope out a new seat with more room and the woman to my left and I discussed how we hoped he'd leave so we could also have more room. He came back, unable to find a seat, and opened his bag. He looked at me and said 'Hey, have you seen Fight Club? I have it, on my laptop, wanna watch it?' Score! I said yes, and moments later we were sharing a set of headphones and huddled (cuddled, maybe!) over his laptop watching Fight Club. I feel like I've never been so happy.

After the movie was over, and we'd eaten our meal, I resorted to my second measure of coping - Ambien. I popped one in and was out, for nearly seven hours. It was great. I'm not sure that Fight Club Dude agrees, as the arm rest was still up and I'm pretty sure that I rolled over at one point and used him as a pillow. But, you do what you have to, right?!

I woke up refreshed and ready to eat the continental breakfast!

One more Ambien on my first full night here, and I'm totally in the zone (the Australian time zone that is!)

Also, I'd like to thank Qantas Airlines - seriously, one of the best I've flown. I don't think I'd have been nearly as comfortable and happy if it had not been for their attention to detail (clean airplane bathrooms with marble floors), ever ready snacks (including an endless supply of apples, water, M&Ms, and mints), and superb customer service (I received an express pass through customs, even though I had already MISSED my connection, and then was rebooked on a flight that required me to only wait an extra 25 minutes). So I guess that's three things: Fight Club. Ambien. and Qantas!


Friday, June 13, 2008

the land down under

It's been a while, and there's been a lot going on.

There's been kickball



There's been cake



And, there's been two-steppin'



But today, there's going to be flying. And lots of it. My ride is showing up (thanks RO'D) in 15 minutes, and then I'm off to the airport. Some thirty hours later I should arrive on the other side of the world, ready for anything!

Until then...